


Command Level Thinking

by thatceliachick



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: BDSM, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatceliachick/pseuds/thatceliachick
Summary: Janeway, Chakotay and the intricacies of command. Or, Janeway tied naked to a chair.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Command Level Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> Bad brain. Bad, bad brain!

She’s on her knees, hands clasped behind her back, as he fucks her mouth with the plug.  
It’s part of their ritual, one they’ve played out since they met, since they struck the devil’s pact to merge crews and fight their way back.  
He pulls the toy out her mouth and holds it up and she licks it up and down like a lollipop until it’s wet and shiny with her spit. She’ll do the same to his cock and balls soon enough. He gestures and she turns away, raising her hips and presenting her ass, knees as wide as they’ll go. She waits, somewhere between resigned and aroused, as he spreads lubricant over the plug and drizzles it between her ass cheeks. She grunts a little as he pushes the plug up into her and uses the ring at the base to twist it a few times.  
Just to remind her that, here and now, he is giving the orders. The plug jiggles a bit and something soft brushes against the back of her legs. She glances back and sees a long, fluffy pink tail dangling between her legs and swallows at the rush of humiliation and arousal that washes over her.  
He smacks her ass. “Wag your tail like a good little bitch,” he orders, and she obeys, ignoring the hot flush of shame as she wiggles her hips. She can see the tail swing back forth and his chuckle goes straight to her clit, makes it swell with heat. “Faster.”  
He watches her wriggle for several minutes, ordering her to lift her hips higher so he can see her pussy as well.  
“Bring me the bag,” he says finally, and she crawls on her hands and knees to her closet and picks the black valise up with her teeth. She crawls back to him and sets it in his outstretched hands, then settles back on her knees.  
She’s already wearing the collar, with the little tag engraved “Chakotay’s Slut" on the metal tag. He makes her keep it in the stand next to her bed, right alongside her pips.  
He sets the bag on a side table while he works her nipples to firm points, pulling and tugging until they stand tall and aching for his tongue. She manages not to wince as he clamps the nipple chain in place and gives it a tug. The tiny silver bells strung along it give a little jingle and her pussy grows shamefully wet.  
He takes a seat in her armchair. “Dance.”  
She rises gracefully, puts her hands behind her head, and starts swaying, swinging her hips and shoulders to music only she can hear. The tail brushes the backs of her legs and the bells dangling from her breasts jingle softly as her breasts jiggle and bounce with every movement. The chain tugs just right at her nipples as she performs for him.  
Chakotay’s Slut. His sex slave. His fuck toy, one weekend a month. Naked and ready for him, always in her quarters.  
He snaps his fingers and she turns her back to him, shimmying and rocking her hips. He’s a bit obsessed with her ass, to tell the truth. Slapping, pinching, plugging it, as if it’s the key to proving his ownership.  
One weekend a month, provided no one out there is trying to kill them.  
He snaps his fingers again and she turns to face him, still dancing.  
“Run in place,” he orders.  
This is new. Hands back behind her head and she’s jogging at a comfortable pace while he watches her breasts bounce up and down. The bells clash ridiculously fast and the chain tugs hard at her nipples.  
She likes the tug and the clashing bells and runs a bit faster. Chakotay’s cock is straining against his boxers and her thighs are slick with her own juice as he stares at her bouncing breasts. She’s amused that he doesn’t realize how much power she has over him right now, and fights back a laugh.  
She was at the academy, a lowly plebe, when she realized she had a gift for taking orders.  
Dorm room locked, on her knees sucking a roommate’s clit while her roommate’s boyfriend slammed his cock into her and told her to lick faster.  
Bound and gagged in a cargo bay with vibrators stuffed in her pussy and ass, buzzing her to orgasm again and again until the lieutenant commander with the perfect breasts and cruel mouth let her free with a good paddling and an order to come to her quarters later.  
“Enough,” Chakotay rasped, and snapped his fingers again. She dropped to her knees and crawled toward him, kneeling between his legs. She used her teeth to tug his boxers down and opened wide to take his balls into her mouth. Licked and sucked until they were dripping wet, then moved on to his cock. He pulled her hair hard with one hand while she sucked him and tugged firmly on the nipple chain with the other, rocking his hips to force her to take him deeper.  
She swallowed his cum, licked him clean and sat back on her heels as he collected himself.  
“Get in the chair,” he said, and she took her place in the little armchair next to her bed. She spread her legs, hanging each over the arms of the chair and waited as he cuffed her wrists and ankles together.  
He pulled her favorite vibrator from her nightstand and slipped it around her clit, carefully placing the little “finger" against the tip of her clit. Then he pulled the remote control for it out and returned to his chair.  
“If you ask nicely, I might let you come,” he said, and clicked the vibrator on.  
She groaned at the sudden buzz between her legs. He’d set it just a bit too fast, but then, she liked it rough.  
Torres had figured that out quickly enough, but for a master tactician, Chakotay wasn’t too bright.  
She moaned as the little vibe brought her closer to orgasm, and Chakotay clicked it off.  
Of course.  
He clicked it on again a few minutes later. And off again. He would torment her until she was red-faced and squirming, crying and begging for release.  
For a rebel, he was very fond of routine.  
Janeway settled back, shivering in anticipation. She liked this game.  
And when she grew bored with him, a word to Tuvok and he’d be tossed into the brig to rot.  
Rank, after all, had its privileges.


End file.
